


the study of matter

by FandomFairy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Has A Degree, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Madi is Clarke Griffin and Roan's Child, Multi, Teenage Parent, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Usual Suspects are Dead, lots of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomFairy/pseuds/FandomFairy
Summary: Clarke Griffins life is turned upside down on the day that she loses her virginity to Bellamy Blake, because it's the same day her father, her best friend, her best friends mother, and her other best friends girlfriend all die in a school shooting.It turns right side up two years later on a Tuesday in mid March.This story follows her for the next 15 years.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Roma, Clarke Griffin & Jasper Jordan, Clarke Griffin & Jasper Jordan & Monty Green & Wells Jaha, Clarke Griffin & Ontari, Clarke Griffin/Roan, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Finn Collins/Raven Reyes, Jasper Jordan/Maya Vie, John Murphy/Raven Reyes, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	1. collision

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't be shy! Leave as many comments as you want, constructive criticism is more than welcome!
> 
> I got the idea for this fic late last night and plotted out the entire story from start to finish. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Tags will be added as the story progresses to avoid spoilers.

Clarke meets Roan in the spring. 

She’s visiting the campus of Kru Coalition University with the other people from her class that’ll be going there in the Fall… she’s not having a very good time. 

“Alright, kids!” Miss Becca Franco calls from the front of the group. “Pair up. We’ll meet back here in two hours. Try not to get lost, thanks.”

Jasper snorts beside her. “Want to pair up?”

She glances at him, raises her brow, and looks to where Monty and Harper are already breaking off from their group. She sighs. 

“C’mon,” she says. “There’s a bar just off campus.”

Jasper lets out a startled laugh and wraps one arm around her shoulder while he makes a sweeping motion with the other. 

“After you, your highness.”

The bar isn’t crowded, but there’s more people there than she expected on a Tuesday morning. All scattered throughout the small room at booths along the wall or at high tables on the wooden floor. There’s no one at the bar counter. 

“I’ll get us some drinks,” she says to Jasper. “Find us a seat somewhere?”

The lanky boy shoots her a mock salute and saunters deeper into the building. 

The bar itself is dimly lit, with a dense cloud of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Clarke is thinking about the shower she’ll have to take before going home this evening when she reaches the counter. 

“Two Budweisers,” she calls to the bartender who she can see in her periphery. She pulls her phone from the pocket in her skirt and opens up her Snapchat.

Finn’s posted a picture from somewhere on KCU campus. He’s with Raven. They’re smiling. The caption? A single red heart. She scoffs and puts her phone away. 

“Actually, get me a shot of tequila, too.” She brings her hand up to her face and massages her eyes. 

She feels so stupid. Of course stupid Finn Collins had a girlfriend. Of course this girlfriend was a fucking genius university student. Of course he would fucking lie to her fucking face for a fucking year. Of course the only way she would catch on is because he’s too fucking stupid to not sext his fucking girlfriend while he’s on a date with his other fucking girlfriend. Of course-

“Are you even old enough to be in here?”

Clarke starts at the gruff voice. She looks up. It’s the bartender. He’s leaning back against the bar, wiping a thin cloth around a glass cup and staring straight at her. He’s got shoulder length, brown hair and is built like a tank. 

“I’m old enough to want to be here.” She challenges. 

He stops moving. Stares straight at her. Then he smirks and pours her her shot. 

“One shot, two beers. That’s it.” He says slamming the shot glass down between them.  
She licks her lips, smirks when his eyes dart down to follow the movement, raises the small glass to her mouth and dumps the contents in, swallowing without a flinch. It burns all the way down.

He takes his eyes off her mouth long enough to give her an impressed nod, flashing her a row of white teeth and producing the beers from under the counter. 

“What’s bothering you…?” The question hangs in the air and he looks at her expectantly as he removes the caps from the beer bottles between them. 

“Clarke,” she offers. “My name is Clarke.”

He hums deeply. “What’s bothering you, Clarke?”

“Some stupid guy. No big deal.” She dips her hand in her pocket and pulls out a twenty-dollar bill, sliding it over to him in exchange for her drinks. “Keep the change.”

She grabs the necks of the bottles and turns to go find Jasper. He’s got a girl with him at a table near a dart board and grins at her as she approaches. 

“Clarke! My buddy, my pal!” He drawls as she hands him his beer. 

“What?” Clarke asks, squinting and taking a long swig. 

“This is Shay,” he gestures to the girl beside him. “She goes to KCU. A literature major.”

Clarke extends her hand to Shay and they shake. 

“Nice to meet you.” She says pulling her hand back. 

“You too.” Shay says, ducking her head. 

It’s silent for a beat while Clarke sips and waits for Jasper to stop fidgeting. 

“Shay lives in this building.” Jasper blurts out. 

_Ah_ , Clarke thinks. _There it is._

“Just text me when you’re done.” Clarke says rolling her eyes. “I actually _don’t_ want to give Franco a heart attack.”

Jasper leans over the small table excitedly and plants a wet kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll be right back!” He says grabbing Shays hand. The girl at least has the decency to look apologetic, squeezing Clarkes arm as she passes. 

Clarke turns to watch them go and catches the eye of the bartender as she’s turning back. He’s looking straight at her and doesn’t seem to care that she caught him staring. Clarke holds his gaze as she downs the rest of her beer and makes her way toward him. He’s got his arms on the counter and the way his grey t-shirt struggles to stretch over his muscles makes her want to rip it off. 

“Your friend left.” He states. 

She nods, leaning over the counter onto her arms. Her low-cut sweater pulled further down by the friction, exposing just a bit of lace from the top of her bra. The bartenders eyes dart down and he licks his lips again.

“Is he coming back?” He asks, still staring at her breasts. 

“Not for a little while,” Clarke says trailing her eyes over him. “Thirty minutes tops.”

His eyes snap back to hers and she can see the wheels turning in his head. 

“How old are you really?” He asks finally. “No bullshit.”

“I turned eighteen in October.” She responds, voice even. 

For a moment, she thinks he’s going to reject her. Tell her she’s too young and send her on her way… but then he moves, grabbing her hand and pulling her behind the counter and through a door marked “Employees Only”. 

It’s a small space. There’s a fridge in the corner that looks like it used to be white, a sink, some counter space cluttered by a microwave and a dish drainer, several cabinets, a TV on the far wall and two green couches arranged in an L shape. He turns and backs her up against the door, getting in her space, while he locks it. 

“Name’s Roan.” He says leaning down so that they’re eye level. “Nice to meet you.”

His breath fans across her face and she closes her eyes as she reaches out to touch him. Immediately shoving her hands under his shirt to palm at his sculpted back. 

“Yeah,” she exhales. “Nice to meet you, too.”


	2. whirlwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Roan go on their first date. It's a lot heavier than expected.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Mentions of gun related violence and substance abuse.

He fucks her twice. Once while she’s pinned against the door with his face buried in her neck and his hand over her mouth to keep them both quiet, and once while she’s bent over the back of one of the couches. She cums both times and when it’s over her legs feel like jelly. 

They get dressed on opposite sides of the room, she’s got her back to him as she fastens her bra at her front and circles it around her waist. 

“You seen my skirt?” She throws the question over her shoulder while she pulls her sweater over her head. 

Roan is quiet from his place by the door and she tugs her sweater down at the back to cover her cotton underwear self consciously before turning to look at him. He’s got her phone in his hands, thick fingers dancing across the screen. Her black skirt is thrown over one of his shoulders and for a moment she wonders if he heard her. Then finally, he looks up, passing both the skirt and the phone to her.

“It’s got pockets,” he states, amused. 

“Right?” She says, eyes bulging. She’d been happy about that fact too. 

He shifts nervously for a minute while she slips the corduroy past her knee-high socks and over her hips. 

“I gotta get back out there,” he says as she’s zipping her skirt. “Don’t want the drunks stealing all the booze.”

She shoots him a grin and makes one last effort to tame her hair. He’d pulled it out of the braid so she’d had no option but to let it loose. 

“See you around?” She offers hesitantly and her heart flutters at the broad smile she gets in return.

He leans down to capture her lips in a heated kiss. “Definitely.”

She leaves the bar with one last look at Roan and walks back toward the University. It’s only been about 50 minutes since Franco dismissed them and about 30 since Jasper left her at the bar. She unlocks her phone as she crosses the street in a sea of people and her step falters a bit at what she sees. 

A new contact profile for one Mr. Roan Vasiliev. She smiles to herself as she crosses the threshold onto campus. 

“What’s up with that goofy grin, Griffin?” 

She spins on her heel and almost collides with Bellamy’s thermos. 

“Jesus Christ! Back up, Blake.” She shrieks as she shoves him lightly.

“My my. Aren’t we masters of alliteration today?” 

Bellamy Blake is a World History senior at Arkadia University so it shouldn’t surprise her that he’s got a thick Latin textbook tucked under his arm. Still, she wonders.

“Latin? Seriously, Bellamy?”

A faint blush rises to the apples of his cheeks as he peeks over his glasses to stare somewhere near her shoulder. 

“Shut up,” he scoffs after a beat. “Latin is sexy.”

“Did Roma tell you that?” She counters, rolling her eyes and turning away. She’s halfway to the stone archway that leads to the administrative hub before she hears him scurry to catch up. 

“Franco drop you guys already?” He asks sipping from his thermos. His messenger bag strapped firmly to his chest. “I could’ve sworn you just got here.”

“Been about an hour, actually.” She sighs. “We’re supposed to be _‘touring’_ to _‘familiarize ourselves with the environment’_ but I’ve been here more times than I care to admit so I’ve just been milling about.”

He’s quiet as they walk up a staircase leading to the Linguistics department. 

“Are you sure that’s _all_ you’ve been doing?” He asks finally shooting her a smirk that could have been a sneer. 

Her stomach drops. If there’s anyone who would recognize her after sex face, it’s Bellamy… but he hasn’t seen it in almost a year so she thought she’d get away with it. 

Something in her expression must be hilarious because he inhales as he sips and brown liquid that smells strongly of vanilla spurts out of his nose and leaves him coughing in the middle of the hallway. A few students eye him as they walk past, and she gives them all tight lipped smiles as she pats his back. 

“Woah, Blake.” Comes a voice bounding up the stairs behind them. “You okay, man?”

Clarke turns in time to see Nathan Miller walking backward down the hall behind them. He’s got the same textbook in his hand and he looks only _mildly_ concerned. Bellamy breathes like a man starved of air and throws him a thumbs up before straightening. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, throat raw and voice raspy. 

“Quiz venue changed,” Miller calls from halfway down the hall. “Don’t you check your email?”

“Fuck.” Bellamy swears lowly. He takes a large stride before turning back to Clarke. “I gotta go, Princess.”

Clarke smiles at the nickname. “Don’t fail!”

Bellamy leans his head to the side and waves her away as he turns toward Miller. “Oh, and Clarke?”

“What?” She calls already making her way back downstairs. 

“You’ve got a massive hickey on your neck.” He whisper-yells. 

She almost trips and falls on the landing. 

~ ~ ~

She makes her way back to the bus to grab her bag and then to the student quad, littered with umbrellaed benches and tall trees, and finds herself an empty table near where they’d been dismissed. She’s got Spaghetti Bolognese and a bottle of iced tea for lunch, leftovers from dinner she’d made last night. It’s nowhere near warm but it’s not as cold as it was when she’d taken it out of the fridge this morning. She pulls out her phone and opens the SMS app typing a message and hitting send before she can stop herself. It takes two minutes for her phone to buzz next to her. 

_Clarke Griffin (12:17)_  
_Guess what._

_Roan Vasiliev (12:19)_  
_The zombie apocalypse has started._

Clarke snorts and puts down her fork. 

_Clarke Griffin (12:19)_  
_Ugh, I wish we were that lucky._  
_Another one of my friends just ditched me._

_Roan Vasiliev (12:20)_  
_Whew._  
_You might need new friends, Clarke._

_Clarke Griffin (12:20)_  
_To be fair..._  
_He’s got a quiz now._

_Roan Vasiliev (12:20)_  
_Still ditched you._

_Clarke Griffin (12:20)_  
_Still ditched me._

“Looks like someone’s happy,” Jasper grins, plopping down opposite her on the bench. 

Clarke grins back at him while she sips her drink. 

“Who’s the lucky individual?” He queries, pulling a massive sandwich from his bag. 

“Bartender,” she states, twirling more spaghetti around her fork. “He gave me his number.”

Jaspers eyebrows shoot up as he bites into his sandwich. “Nice, nice.”

Neither of them speaks for a bit, the air growing thick with tension. 

“And Shay?” Clarke squeaks. 

Jasper shoots her a small smile. It’s not sad but it’s not exactly happy either. “I didn’t get her number if that’s what you mean.”

Clarke shrugs. “You can always come back?”

Jasper smiles again but this time he reaches into his bag to pull out his Bluetooth earbuds, holding them up in question.

“Do you mind?” He asks. It doesn’t really sound like he’s asking her permission, but Clarke shakes her head anyway and turns back to her food. 

Things are weird with Jasper. 

Things had been weird with Jasper since the Arkadia University massacre two years ago. 

The two of them and their childhood best friend Wells Jaha were supposed use the Ark U library for some dumb project. In actuality, _Wells_ was going to use the library while Clarke spent the afternoon with Wells’ mom talking about old paintings and Jasper hung out with his girlfriend Maya who helped her mother, the librarian… but Aurora Blake had died just a few months prior and Clarke had been _‘helping Bellamy with something’_ so she’d cancelled. She was supposed to be Jaspers ride. Monty and his new girlfriend Harper, The New Girl, had alienated themselves from the friend group, too, so Jasper had no other means to get to Ark U. 

Aurora Blake going against her doctors orders and getting pregnant a third time had saved two lives, as terrible as it sounds.

The news had said the shooter came in through the science building and had shot his way forward. 

Thirty-seven people died that day, including her father, Wells and Fatima Jaha, and Maya and Victoria Vie.

Arkadia University didn’t open for another semester, and their students were instructed to transfer into other universities, free of cost. 

Jasper blamed Clarke for his not being there with Maya and Wells and spiraled into depression and substance abuse. 

Clarke blamed herself for not being there with her father and Wells and asked Bellamy to return her favors every day for months. 

They’d both been fuming at Monty for abandoning them after getting his new girlfriend and then showing up at Wells’ and Fatima’s funeral with a stream of tears on his face. They’d made a scene, yelling at him, both going red in the face. Funeral goers were stunned. Uncle Theo didn’t blink, and Clarke wasn’t sure that her mother was even _breathing_. Miller and Bellamy had lifted her, kicking, and screaming and taken her from the church. John Murphy had all but dragged Jasper by the neck behind them. 

But _both_ Jasper and Monty had showed up at Jake Griffins funeral two days later. They’d each sat on either side of her on the church pew, squeezing her hands as she’d wailed. Her cries echoing off of the white faded walls and multicolored windows, chilling all in attendance. 

They’d sent her texts later that day to make sure she was alright but Bellamy was fucking her from behind so she could only watch as her phone vibrated on his bedside table before she’d come undone. After they’d both cried themselves to sleep and Bellamy had dropped her off at half past ten, she’d read the messages but never replied. She and Monty had returned the favor to Jasper at Maya and her mother's funeral not too long after. 

He hadn't replied to them either. 

Jasper sat with her at lunch, though, but their conversations were few and far between. Emori, who’d been Wells’ Biology lab partner, and was suddenly John Murphy’s girlfriend, started sitting with them too. Even Monty showed up now and again with Harper, The New Girl, though she always looked just slightly uncomfortable around so many people so that was a rare occurrence.  


She and Jasper still spoke, pretty frequent, too, but he was nowhere near being her best friend anymore. She often caught herself choosing words around him, scared that he’d not want to speak with her ever again. Heck, she was closer to Bellamy’s _kid sister_ than she was to the boy she’d known her entire life. 

In some ways, she’d lost her _entire_ family that day. 

Her dad, her Wells, and her Aunt Fatima to a rain of bullets. 

Her mother, her Jasper, and her Uncle Theo to whatever void they’d fallen into. It made her sad that Jasper blamed her for him not being dead, but some days she’s not so sure that he’s even alive. 

Today, though, as she listens to him hum along to whatever horrible song he’s got blaring through his earbuds, and she thinks she sees her Jasper again. So she doesn’t push the boundaries they have set up between them. When Monty and Harper sit with them ten minutes later she tries not to laugh when he shoots her a bewildered yet amused look. She misses him… but he’s there in his own way so she eats her spaghetti in silence. 

~ ~ ~

She and Roan talk every day for the next four weeks. Conversations with him are easy and fun. He’d made her cum many more times with his voice alone and Clarke thinks she’s falling in love by the time the second Friday rolls around. She’d learned so much yet so little about him in the time that they’ve been talking. He was born and raised in Azgeda, a cutthroat urban city just west of Polis dotted with skyscrapers and constantly under a cover of dark clouds. 

“Why do you work in Polis then?” She’d asked on the first Thursday, stretching her legs onto the wall behind her headboard. “Isn’t that kind of a long drive?”

Roan had barked with laughter. “I was filling in for a friend of mine.” He’d said finally. 

“Then what do you do for work, Old Man?” She'd purred. 

“Watch it.” He’d growled into the phone.

She’d hummed lazily at him, flipping over onto her stomach. 

“I work in PR.” He’d said. 

It was _all_ he’d said about his job. 

So, on the morning of the fourth Saturday, when Clarke finally caves and decides to _Google Search_ ‘Roan Vasiliev’, she’s absolutely flummoxed that it actually brings up a long and legitimate _Wikipedia_ page complete with hundreds of sources. 

_Clarke Griffin (09:12)_  
_What the fuck?_  
_en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roan_Boris_Vasiliev_

Her messages say delivered but he’d told her the night before that he had some stuff to do on Saturday morning, so she goes back to the _Wikipedia_ page and reads.

His birthday is in May and he’ll be 25 years old. His mother died three years prior to their meeting from a lost battle with a long-suffering brain tumor. They’d bonded over that… no one quite understood the loss of a parent than another person who’d gone through the same thing. She’d jokingly invited him to join the imaginary club she and the Blake siblings had started but he’d politely turned her down. 

He’d told her all the basic stuff. 

What he _hadn’t_ told her was that his mother, Nia Vasiliev, had left him a multi-million-dollar public relations firm, aptly named Cryo Public Relations (CPR), upon her death, of which, he was now the CEO. 

“What the fuck?” Clarke whispers to herself. 

There’s a knock at her door and her mother pops her head in before she can answer. 

“Morning, sweetie.” Abby says smiling. “You hungry?”

Clarke must not look too well because Abby’s face contorts in worry and she strides over to Clarke and rests her cool palm on her daughter’s forehead. 

“Are you alright?” Abby asks, turning her hand over and resting it beneath Clarke’s chin. “You look pale.”

Clarke blinks once, twice, then shakes her head to clear it. 

“Yeah, no.” She says in a rushed breath. “I’m good just… shocked.”

Abby sits on Clarke’s bed, over the orange sheets, the mattress dipping under her weight.

“What happened?”

Clarke debates whether she should show her mother. She’d told her about Roan as soon as she’d gotten home on that fated Tuesday. They’d agreed they’d have no more secrets after Abby had caught her and Bellamy in an intimate embrace the last time they’d slept together. Abby wasn’t pleased about Roan being so much older than her but she’d acknowledged that Clarke was an adult now and almost a university student. She trusted her to make good decisions for herself. 

Sighing, Clarke turned her phone to show her mother her screen. Abby leaned forward a bit, squinting her eyes as they scanned the bright screen. Then they widened exponentially. 

“That’s Roan?!” She shrieked. 

Clarke nodded, turning her phone back to herself and continuing to read. She balked when she got to the section about his personal life. 

_Vasiliev dated childhood friend and runway model turned actress Callie Tran for seven years, even going so far as to move in together. The pair separated late last year due to conflicting schedules. However, it was reported by _People Magazine_ in January that Vasiliev’s adoptive younger sister, CFO at Cryo Public Relations, Ontari Jameson, did not get along with her older brother’s long-time love and that a fierce argument between the two is what led to the pair calling it quits._

“Holy shit,” Clarke breaths again, blinking slowly. 

“Did you know?” Abby asks, leaning back against Clarke’s leg. 

“No!” She laughs. “I had no idea.”

“What are you gonna do?” 

“I don’t know,” she whispers. 

Abby tells her that she’s making them some pancakes and that she’ll give her a minute to process then leaves the room. Not knowing what else to do, Clarke pulls up another chat box.

_Clarke Griffin (9:20)_  
_SOS!!_  
_en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roan_Boris_Vasiliev_

_Jasper Jordan (9:20)_  
_IS THAT THE BARTENDER?!_

_Clarke Griffin (9:20)_  
_!!!!_  
_Clarke Griffin (9:21)_  
_I’m so shocked?????_  
_But also…_  
_Slightly turned on????_

He doesn’t answer her for a full five minutes and she panics. 

She’s said the wrong thing. 

She’d told Jasper about her and Roan talking while they’d sat and had lunch together. He’d seemed interested, in a way that he hadn’t whenever she’d mention Bellamy. She’s about to start typing an apology when he replies, it has her in stitches even as she walks downstairs to have breakfast with her mother. 

_Jasper Jordan (9:27)_  
_I wOrK iN pR_

~ ~ ~

Roan doesn’t respond to her until she’s half asleep, sprawled out on Emori's carpet having given up on studying for Biology while Emori and Murphy FaceTime. 

_Roan Vasiliev (14:13)_  
_I was wondering how long it would take you._

Clarke’s sudden alertness has Emori looking over quizzically. She mouths Roans name and Emori rolls her eyes as she turns back to Murphy on her phone. She debates holding off on a reply for only two seconds before her fingers are flying across the screen. 

_Clarke Griffin (14:13)_  
_How come you never said anything?_

_Roan Vasiliev (14:14)_  
_I’m enjoying talking to you as Roan, The PR Guy_

_Clarke Griffin (14:14)_  
_… Hate to break it to you, Old Man._  
_But you’ll always be Roan, The PR Guy to me._

She waits. One minute, then two. He starts typing at 14:16 but he stops and starts about three more times before her phone vibrates in her hand. 

_Roan Vasiliev (14:17)_  
_Would you like to have dinner with me this evening?_

_Clarke Griffin (14:17)_  
_Don’t you live in northern Azgeda?_  
_… That’s a long drive…_

Like… six to seven hours long. 

_Roan Vasiliev (14:17)_  
_I’m actually in Polis right now. Thanks for your concern._  
_But_  
_I’ll manage._  
_Do we have a date?_

_Clarke Griffin (14:18)_  
_Yes._  
_What should I wear?_

_Roan Vasiliev (14:18)_  
_Anything you wear would be beautiful, Clarke._

She snorts loudly and pounds on Emoris carpet. He can’t be serious. His next message comes up just seconds before hers.

_Roan Vasiliev (14:18)_  
_I think I threw up in my mouth a little._

_Clarke Griffin (14:19)_  
_*green puke emoji*_  
_Ha!_

She throws down her phone on the soft carpet next to her head and kicks her feet in the air repeatedly. Bounding up to Emoris bed and she collapses on top of her friend. 

“Woah, woah, Clarke.” Murphy says from where Emori has moved her phone away. “Don’t kill my girlfriend.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Clarke sings. “She’ll call you right back!”

Emori doesn’t ask any questions as she promptly ends the call. 

“What’s happening?” The girl asks petting Clarke’s long, blonde hair where her head is resting on Emori’s stomach.

“Roan just asked me on a date.” Clarke squeals. 

“Hot, millionaire, bachelor Roan?” Emoris eyes go wide and she stops petting. 

“Ew, no.” Clarke responds. “Roan, The PR Guy.”

The girls cackle loudly enough that Emori's twin brother Otan pounds on their shared wall and yells for them to be quiet. 

~ ~ ~

Roan calls Clarke at six thirty that afternoon to ask for directions to her house. She’s wearing a blue, knee-length, cold-shoulder dress with brown booties, hair pulled into a high ponytail. She tells him that she can meet him wherever it is they’re going because her mother’s boyfriend is over with his ward but he insists. 

When he knocks on the door a little later, her mother looks over from her dads old Lazy Boy recliner as she jumps up from where she’s sitting between Dr. Marcus Kane and Octavia Blake on the Big Couch watching _yet another_ retelling of _Batman._

“Be nice.” Clarke hisses, power walking to the door. 

“I’m always nice.” Abby and Marcus say in unison. 

“I was talking to Octavia,” she sighs, ignoring Octavia’s mock offended look as she pulls open the door. 

Roan is just as beautiful as she remembers. All long brown hair, and ice blue eyes. He’s wearing a black shirt with two of the top buttons undone with a pair of grey slacks. He beams at her when she lifts her gaze. 

“I feel too casual,” she states, raking her eyes over him again. “I’d offer to change but these terrorists might grill you.”

His eyebrow cocks as he looks down at himself, eyes widening in realization. 

“Oh, no!” He says holding up his hands. “I had a business meeting earlier.”

She hesitates slightly, squinting.

“You look fine, Clarke. Scouts honor.”

“You were a scout?” Comes Octavia’s voice from the living room. 

Roans eyes widen momentarily before Clarke opens the door wider to let him in. 

“No,” he says sheepishly, glancing around the open room. “Just an expression, unfortunately.”

Abby and Marcus are standing in the entryway to the living room, eyeing Roan heavily. Octavia is perched on the couch, only her upper arms and head peeking over. 

“Dr. Griffin,” Roan says extending his hand to her mom. “My name is Roan Vasiliev. You have a wonderful home.”

“Abby,” her mother responds. “Please. And thank you.”

Roan turns to Marcus and extends his hand as well. 

“Marcus Kane.” The elder man declares. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Dr. Kane.” 

Clarke swears she sees Marcus swoon just a bit. 

Finally, Roan turns to the 15-year-old on the couch. 

“And you must be Bellamy’s sister Octavia.”

Her eyes go wide at that, but she shakes his extended hand.

“You know Bellamy?” She asks glancing over at Clarke. 

Roan shrugs. “I’ve heard a lot about him.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then Clarke claps her hands together loudly. 

“Okay!” She says from the doorway, still propping it open. “We should go. I don’t think Roan wants to drive back to Azgeda at 10 pm.”

“Have fun!” Abby calls as Clarke ushers Roan out the door. 

It closes with a heavy thud and she’s already making her way down the front steps when Roan grabs her wrist and spins her around. She collides with his defined chest with a soft ‘ompf’. 

“I missed you.” He whispers near the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. He’s got her wrapped in a tight embrace, swaying gently as the spring breeze lifts the skirt of her dress around her. 

She wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. Her mind screaming that it’s the first time they’ve actually hugged each other. She hopes it won’t be the last. 

When they break apart, he grabs her hand and leads her to the new, shiny, white BMW parked in their driveway. He opens the passenger side door for her, the perfect gentleman, before he slides in and starts the car. 

“Where to?” He asks, revving the engine. 

Her head snaps around to him as she barks out a startled laugh. He grins and backs out onto the street. 

He takes her through a drive-thru, where they order two double-bacon-cheese burgers and a large fry to share. Then he drives them to the highest point in Arkadia, per Clarke's description, and they spend the next hour and a half talking and laughing. It’s when they’re sitting in the back seat of his Bimmer, long finished their meal, and his eyes crinkle at a lame joke she’s told, and he throws his head back laughing that she realizes her chest hurts. 

“My dad would have liked you.” She whispers when it’s quiet again.

He turns to her, eyes serious as he watches her. He moves his hand up to her face and swipes his thumb across her cheek. Only then does she realize that she’s crying. 

“Baby,” he starts… but then her heart breaks and she starts sobbing in earnest. 

Big, fat tears are rolling down her cheeks. She hasn’t broken down like this since her mother told her she was dating Marcus Kane 10 months ago. Only 14 months since they’d buried her father. Of course, Clarke had known Abby and Jake weren’t on the best of terms when he’d died. She’d found the divorce papers in her mother’s office herself only three months before the shooting… but she still felt like it was too soon. She’d invited Bellamy over to try and help her with some _’stress relief’_ and Abby had found them in her bedroom, both naked and sweaty, Bellamy’s head between her legs as her fist curled in her sheets. That had been the end of their arrangement. They’d sat down with each other after Abby had closed the door wordlessly and talked honestly about the fact that what they were doing wasn’t going to help in the long run. They’d agreed to try again when they were both well enough to cope with whatever they felt for each other and Bellamy had left with a gentle kiss to her forehead as she’d sobbed. 

Less than 2 months later, she’d gotten a notification on Facebook:

 _Bellamy B. Blake has changed his relationship status to ‘In A Relationship’ with Roma D. Flynn_

She’d cried that night too. Less a painful cry and more an angry one. 

Roan pulls her onto his lap, enveloping her in his arms, rubbing her back rhythmically. He’d said he’d been out all day, but he smelled amazing. Clarke lifts her head from where it’s tucked beneath Roan’s chin and catches his lips in hers. She kisses him fervently as she repositions herself so that she straddles him. She rolls her hips on his lap as she tangles her fingers in his hair. 

“Baby,” he grunts. “Wait.” 

She doesn’t listen. Grinding harder on his lap when she feels his dick begin to harden. He pushes her slightly to break their kiss but she just turns her attention to his neck. Peppering it with open mouthed kisses. 

“Clarke,” he growls. Hands dragging slowly up her thighs, around her waist and up her back. 

She grinds again, throwing her head back slightly when his bulge grazes against her clothed bud. 

“Clarke,” he says again, stern. “Stop.”

He pushes her back roughly. Hands gripping her upper arms. She looks a mess. Dress half off, hair tousled, and pupils blown wide. 

Shame swells in her chest and she moves to get off his lap. 

“Sorry,” she says meekly. “I thought… sorry.”

Roan sighs, releasing her arms and instead choosing to wrap his arms around her waist, effectively stopping her dismount. 

“Not tonight, okay?” He whispers softly from where he’s buried his face between her breasts. “This isn’t what you need.”

And that’s how she starts crying again. Straddling a man way richer than she is in the back of an expensive car. 

When she’s all out of tears she sits and talks about Jake Griffin. About how he was the biggest nerd she’d ever known, getting excited about Physics the same way she got excited about Van Gogh. She talks about Wells Jaha and his way with words, Aunt Fatima and their shared love of art. She talks about Uncle Theo and his turn to religion in the wake of the death of his family. She talks about Bellamy and Octavia and their late mother Aurora. How Kane had taken Octavia in while Bellamy studied in Polis after their mother died. She talks about her best-friend-but-actually-not-really-her-best-friend Jasper, their sometimes-best-friend-but-not-really Monty, and Jasper’s lost love Maya. She tells him stories about her and Emori and their friendship after they’d both lost Wells. That naturally leads to John Murphy and then of course to Nathan Miller and Nathans father David. She tells him about stupid, lying, cheater Finn Collins and is gorgeous, genius girlfriend Raven. She even blubbers on about Harper, The New Girl, except she’s not so new anymore because she’d been with them since the end of freshman year. She tells him that even though she and Harper aren’t exactly friends, she cares for her because the girl is important to Monty, and Monty is her family… and she would do _anything_ for her family. 

Roan tells her about his life. A distant mother running a cutthroat business; an adoptive sister who his mother seemed to like more than she did her own son. He weaves her tales of Callie Tran, Sam and Robert Givens, and the _actual_ bartender, Leland Hope; how they had been his family for most of his life. He tells her about the tentative relationship he’d built with his sister when their mother had revealed she had a terminal illness. How Callie’s career had taken off around the same time which had left him floundering by himself as he tried to cope with inheriting CPR at such a young age. He talked about how after his mother died and he'd inherited the company he'd spiraled, and how Ontari, more than _anyone_ , was there to keep him going. Gnashing her teeth at anyone who would try to hurt her big brother. How Callie hurt him the most. How Ontari had not one _shit_ of it and kicked Callie out of his home herself. He tells her that his family is small, but he would do anything for them, too. 

She wipes away his tears, no questions; presses soft kisses to his closed eyelids and thanks him for sharing. 

It’s almost eleven thirty when he drives her home. He looks exhausted as he walks with her, their fingers laced together, up the stone path that is her driveway.

She begs him to stay the night, voicing her worry about him driving back to Azgeda. 

He promises her that he’s going to stop at the Bed & Breakfast at the edge of town. And he gives her a sweet kiss goodnight. 

He doesn’t leave the porch until he hears the lock click on the door. 

Half an hour later, after a shower and a big glass of water, Clarke is blinking drowsily at her phone. It vibrates as the digital clock on her nightstand turns 00:00. 

_Roan Vasiliev (00:00)_  
_I made it. All checked in._  
_Goodnight, Clarke._  
_Sleep well._

_Clarke Griffin (00:00)_  
_Goodnight, Roan._  
_Let me know when you get home tomorrow._

He sends her a yellow heart in reply and she’s grinning when she falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm looking at a twice a week posting schedule. Every Monday and Thursday.


End file.
